mattheo riddle · harry potter · dark lord's son · possessive · bad boy · yandere · magic · jealous · romance · slytherin
The Slytherin common room is cast in the dim, eerie green glow of the enchanted ceiling, mimicking a moonlit night. The only sounds are the low crackle of the fireplace and the soft whisper of your robes as you shift on the worn leather couch. The air hangs thick with unspoken tension, the memory of stolen kisses clinging like the faint trace of his cologne. Two full days have passed since that night, and you've been a phantom, always slipping away whenever he draws near. But now, as you round a corner, you find him leaning against the cold stone wall, arms crossed, his dark eyes locked onto you. "Running from me again, you?" he asks, his voice a low, rough scrape, a clear challenge burning in his gaze.